Deconstuction of a Dream
by Ifawishofwonder
Summary: Set pre hole in the heart but post Blizzard. A B B get together in there own unique way fic, please review.
1. prologue

Deconstruction of a dream

Some people can instantly discern meaning from a dream. Some people look to oracles, phycology and psychics to understand their dreams. Some people like to have fun with dreams laughing through books of dream theory coming. Some people ignore them. Some people believe they are insights into the future. Some People see them as reminders of the past. Some people believe a dream can mean little. Some people believe dream can mean everything.

It is all perception.

It is about where you lie on the rationality scale. Must you truly experience it for it to be real? Or can you use reason and make a judgement to determine the experience? Is a dream an experience or is it a judgement? Is a dream god given or is it the unconscious mind rationalising your experiences?

A dream is complicated.

One thing for sure is the best kind of dream is one that wakes you up.

…

**Please review if you think this is a good place to start. This story is set prior to Hole in the heart so there will be no baby and no relationship. yet.**


	2. sleepy

Brennan settled on her couch having juggled piles of paper form her desk to the coffee table. She wiped the pen out of her mouth and placed it atop the closest pile. She was exhausted. She now knew that paper work was not the best idea at this point in time. She chastised herself for not realising her fatigue whilst she had scurried to carry all the papers in one trip. The distance from desk to couch being too vast to be travelled more than once.

It was her own fault. She had taken too much on at one time. Even genius Forensic anthropologists get stressed over their workload. The team had been given a case involving a BP official who had been killed whilst vacationing in Florida an angry restaurateur that had lost his business had come across the man spilling money and had lost it in a fit of anger and stabbed the man. His wife had come to his aid and decided to drop the body off in the ocean only for it to resurface on shore 6 weeks later.

Standard really.

However mid-way through the week the CIA had asked for her assistance with an ID. She usually would have said no, the FBI came first. However the agent who requested her assistance was an old friend and she felt obligated to help.

Stressful but she had had tougher workloads.

It was the reappearance of the old friend that had pushed her. It had opened up old wounds, exposed her in ways she hadn't quite been ready to show.

And Booth.

He was the most exhausting.

Angela entered the office and took in the sight of her Best friend. Angela had finished her working day and felt obligated to get her friend to leave. Usually this would be a futile task Brennan at this point in the day considered her day half gone and was setteling into the second half. However as Angela sat down beside her friend she was surprised to see Brennan lean back on the sofa and close her eyes with exhaustion.

"Tough day" Angela asked.

Brennan groaned lifting her head slightly to squint through her lashed at Angela.

"I don't like being melodramatic but I would consider this to be a tough week not day." Brennan replied stoically.

"Mmhmm." Angela smiled. "Secret Agent bad boy and Special agent Hot stuff competing for your attention is sure to take a strain" Angela chuckled. "You know most woman would love two gorgeous men fighting over her"

"There was no competition Angela. There was never a competition." Brennan assured "I choose Booth every time you know that. I told you that."

"Well maybe you should have told Booth because he was practically radiating jealousy this week."

"I shouldn't have to reassure him all the time about his place in my life, I made a promise I never break my promises."

"Yes but Booth has a penis, that means you have to reassure him all the time. Promises to guys aren't as sacred as they are to women."

"I hate it when you make gender generalisations, they have no basis in facts. " Brennan closed her eyes again.

"Have I ever steered you wrong in the world of love. I am you fairy god sister and that means you have to listen to me."

"Booth knows. I promised that one day when I was ready and he was ready we would give us a try. We made a wish. Booth knows that I would never do anything counterproductive to my goals and my goal right now is to be ready for Booth. Sleeping with Billy would have been counterproductive."

"I love the way you think sometimes, it's refreshing. However right now you are with me and it's ok to admit you are in love with Booth. I knew before you did."

Brennan smiled at Angela and rolled her eyes. "I would but every time I do you make a horrible noise that hurts my ears."

At this Angela had to laugh. "I love that you love Booth. Every time I see you two together I inwardly start to hear 'let's get physical' and imagine you two at it. I can't help it but every time you say 'I love Booth' I see white dresses and mini Booths and Baby Brens. I always knew you two would have sex I never imagined that he would get you to fall in love with him. To change for him."

"I didn't change for him."

"Oh so you have always believed in love and made wishes over candles then?" Angela scoffs

"I didn't change for him I just decided to be a little more open to other points of view. I have always been interested in other people's way of thinking. I'm an anthropologist. DO you really think I have changed?" Brennan asked fearing Angela's answer.

"So what if you did. Change isn't always a Bad thing." Angela swerved

"Billy said that he doesn't recognise me anymore, he got mad, really mad." Brennan explained "He never used to get angry. He used to be the nicest man I ever met now he is… Bitter, I don't know what happened to make him this way but I want to help him."

"He isn't your responsibility Bren, I mean he comes running in here demanding your attention when he hasn't even bothered to call or write in years. You don't owe him anything."

"I feel like I do, he saved my life; he took me home when I never thought I would see it again. We were together back then you know, together together, but he had to leave and now he is back and I have Booth but… he is still that guy who brought me home. It's silly really reminiscing we would never have worked but we never got the chance that's what there is now a missed opportunity."

"The one that got away, literally. Everyone has one but usually they don't turn up years later with half burnt corpses and snazzy motor bikes." Angela empathises.

They sit for a moment before Brennan rises from her seat.

"I should head home, Booths coming over and we are going to go over each other's paper work." She says picking up her coat and pulling on her bag.

"You know what would be more fun if you went over each other instead of the paperwork"

This was received with a half grin eye roll.

Brennan arrived home, dumped her coat and bag on the bench by the door dropped her keys in the bowl on the cabinet and draped herself on the couch. Just for a moment she told herself, minutes later she fell asleep.


	3. nightmares deconstructed

It was night time, it was dark, really dark, horror movie, can't see your own hands in front of your face dark.

Noises surrounded her from unknown sources. Squawks and growls not songs and giggles. All of a sudden she was running, running from something, something that she feared more than anything.

An unknowable something, or someone.

_Not knowing was Brennan's fear always had been._

This was not a dream this was a nightmare.

She ran until she tripped falling over a branch, as she looked up again the darkness had transformed into a forest, trees she knew well from nightmares, the jungle she vowed never to return to, willed herself not to dream about.

And she was running again.

She ran until she came to the cabin she thought she was running from. Then she was inside the cabin, in the back room. She was back in her corner… _Memories_

She turned around slowly knowing she shouldn't look knowing no good would come from looking.

A dark figure stood knife in his hand, holding up a man by the scruff of his neck like he was nothing more than a disobedient puppy. _Her puppy, her loyal retriever._

He stood there, showing flecks of tanned skin to her through his dark clothes, his face unknowable through the haze of the dream. Not that it mattered, he was the bad guy, and that's all that mattered. He stared at her proving to her that this was all her fault she was to blame

He raised his knife and began stabbing the man, repeatedly _stab stab stab._

_This was her fault, she was hurting him._

Then she knew who the man was, Billy, she tried to close her eyes to make it stop. It worked.

_Thankfully, you can do that in dreams._

The damp forest smell was replaced by the smell of metal and concrete and she knew where she was, she knew this dream well, once she opened her eyes she knew what was coming.

**This** dream she had believed would evaporate with the red mist that was the perpetrators brains at the hands of Booths friend, the sniper. _Of course there is always residual fear so she was wrong the nightmares apparently would not stop not until she got the message._

But as ever you have to open your eyes just to make sure, blindness is only pleasant for a short time, at some point knowing is better, because for Brennan not knowing is the worst. _Living in oblivion is not really living, knowing might hurt but in the end its better because you are living you can do something. _

_People may argue that the night outside the hoover was the worst night of her life but for Brennan it at least brought some relief she knew now, so she had to learn to live with the knowledge. Learning has bumps and stumbles and you never get it right the first time, it takes time but Brennan was clever she would get it right the next time._

Hodgins is bleeding,_ hurt by her, she tried to help him but she had to hurt him, you cant always make things better without adding a little pain,_ Booth is drowning, _Suffocating behind a door she just can't break through, her belief that he is so different to her_, and she is buried in a glass coffin, _a glass coffin that lets her see out but never allows her to interact with what's around her, her walls and her imperviousness,_ with Taffet, _the face of rationality, the product of total rationality,_ smirking as she dropped more and more dirt, her _regrets and fears_, into her grave. It was all too much she was dying "NO"

That was the kind of nightmare that woke a person up. That was the kind of dream that if you got the message would really wake you up, sometimes to a new reality that you have been trying to catch up to for a very long time.


End file.
